The Smell of Smoke and Fire
by JenovaII
Summary: Voldo's reflection on his renewed, but short, second life. Voldo/Yoshimitsu implied.


**AN: I'm going to go ahead and apologize right now: I'm sorry I'm not sorry for this. Yes, I ship VoldoxYoshimitsu. I'll put that out there now. If you don't like it, I'm sure there are lots of other things you can read. If you're feeling brave, read on.**

**This is just a drabble, though I have other works in mind. Some of it depends on the reaction toward this piece. Well - they're getting written anyway. Whether I publish it is another matter.**

**Therefore, your opinions and input are important to me!**

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Voldo turned to the sunset as the smoke of the funeral pyre crawled skyward. The past few days had been the most torturous of his life, and even now his heart was under constant threat of breaking in two.

Now, as the smoke churled heavenwards, Yoshimitsu was finally at rest.

The weeks following had been tentative and flighty. Yoshimitsu had made promise after promise to introduce his lover to his clan, perhaps even convincing them to let Voldo join as an honorary member. Every time, there was some excuse; Yoshi had heard them discussing foreigners and arguing. An attack was about to be planned. Someone was injured and needed attention. All of these marked a sensitivity that somehow disallowed Voldo entrance into the Manjitou.

Voldo blamed himself for Cervantes's invasion. Somehow he hadn't accounted for the energy he was giving off, pulsing like a spotlight on the world's stage. The proximity to Soul Edge, all the shards he had once collected, and then all the residue from his body... mixed, of course, with the shard that Yoshimitsu kept.

The whole clan had scurried as the undead pirate and his crew attacked. Voldo tried to leap into the fray only to be stopped and scolded. The clan couldn't find him yet. They would try to kill him. Only Yoshimitsu could go.

And somehow, Cervantes had been too much for the ninja.

Voldo blamed himself for this, too. If only he'd been paying attention, he could've sensed the smell of steel and sea air, the presence of the man who had betrayed him and who, at one time, held Soul Edge within himself.

Such a strong presence.

How could he have missed it..?

Yet they had been entangled in each other's arms that night, intoxicated with the scents and sensations of the other. Voldo knew his lover as well as he knew himself. Every line, every scar - some of them he himself had caused years prior. No man alive had seen Yoshimitsu's face, and that was literally still true. Yet if he were given clay, Voldo's fingers could sculpt a perfect likeness just from their memorization.

He had loved that man since the night he'd stumbled haphazardly into Yoshimitsu's chamber, confused and disoriented, his mind freed with one tap of the Kali-Yuga. The specter that haunted him in the guise of his old master had at once dissipated, and for the first time in decades Voldo could consider himself a free man.

But a slave knows not freedom, and his wrists long for the binds of a shackle.

He had come to Yoshimitsu for death, to settle that old score. The words of the ninja had repeated in his mind for weeks: "I shall taketh away the binds thy master has placed."

What Voldo found indeed surprised him. Yoshimitsu somehow knew, somehow could sense the man's heart had been purified. He had welcomed the Hell Guardian not with steel but with open arms.

With nowhere else to turn, Voldo merely hung around like a stray cat, keeping to the forests in the daytime and nights in Yoshimitsu's chamber. He had slept beside Yoshi's bed at first, but his nightmares - oh, his _nightmares_! - soon had him sleeping in Yoshi's arms instead.

Voldo's hand tightened around a scroll, carefully inked in what limited Japanese he knew. A plea, an ask for the clan's acceptance and an admission to the truth about how Cervantes had found them.

He knew he would not be able to deliver it.

Taking in a deep sigh, he smelled the horrible ashes on the fire. He smelled the clan's new leader, and, more importantly, he sensed the rage that was directed at him from that man.

"Hate him not," Yoshi had said, keeping Voldo at a distance from the clan leader's successor. "He does only what I have requested of him. He shall lead me to death - to my honor."

Voldo didn't try to stop the battle. He understood. But he had run away before the final blow was struck, unable to bear that exact moment where the one he loved was taken from him.

He could forgive that young protege who now bore his lover's title.

He could not forgive Cervantes.

Voldo crunched the scroll in his hand, dropping it to the ground. Turning from the smoke, he walked away, eager to escape the funeral, the fire, the heartbreak. His hands, feeling empty, reached for Manas and Ayus.

_Brothers_, he hissed to himself, _we quest for the immortal pirate. Soon we shall see how 'immortal' he truly is._


End file.
